Meitantei No Meiji
by Sir Konan Doyle
Summary: 1888. At the peak of the Meiji Era in Japan an old and powerful crime syndicate has emerged. Baffled, the Japanese Police force must turn to the only hope they have left; 221B Beika Street, Japan. But the Black Organization takes no prisoners and it'll be a fight to the death for the Meiji era's greatest detective and his allies for there is only one truth, and he is Kudo Shinichi!


**Meitantei No Meiji**

_The Meiji Detective_

**Disclaimer: I do not own Detective Conan/ Case Closed. All characters and affiliates belong to Gosho Aoyama.**

**Author's Note**: Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

**Meitantei No Meiji**

_The Meiji Detective_

_1888. At the peak of the Meiji Era in Japan, an old and powerful crime syndicate has emerged. Baffled, the Japanese Police force must turn to the only hope they have left. 221B Beika Street, Japan. But the Black Organization takes no prisoners and it will be a fight to the death for the Meiji era's greatest detective and his friends for there is only one truth in the world and he is Kudo Shinichi, meitantei._

**I. Prologue**

It was raining in Tokyo. Thunder rumbled in the distance as lightning struck above the blackened skies. No one would be caught dead out in this kind of weather in which the clouds seemed to be pouring the oceans of the earth down upon the land. No one that is, except one man.

The steady dripping of water as it traveled down the over filled bamboo drainpipes registered clearly in his ears as the man trod along the muddy streets, lined by shabby homes. The straw covered roofs of poverty were not enough to keep out the cold and wet and he could see the inhabitants of the petty houses shivering together in a useless act to sustain warmth. They would not last long. Death was imminent. It was the only sure thing in a world full of the fake authority of man and his greed.

Stopping only to observe a lone child with a soot-covered face staring out at the rain with a forlorn expression, the man continued deeper into the bowels of the city's edges, where disease and sickness, and poverty and death frequented the most.

The sounds of the rain were instantly cut off the moment the man stepped through the threshold of the house and silence surrounded him.

"My master will be with you shortly," the aged butler explained, his voice echoing all along the grand staircase and high ceilings of the large hall. The man was led into a grand parlor where a roaring blaze had already been started in the grate of the fireplace and gestured to sit in one of the chintz armchairs. No further words were exchanged and the echoes of the butler's footsteps faded out the door once more from where he came.

The man's ears were instantly filled with the new sounds of the crackling hearth and he closed his eyes, only to open them again. He listened and a smile made its way to his thin lips. He had heard right. It was a scream.

There it was again. Long, terrible and drawn out, the scream could only belong to a man who was suffering excruciatingly. And it sounded close; in the room beside his, to be exact. The man stood and walked over to the wall, touching it. Thick, meant to close out the sounds of the world and keep the sounds it elicited within.

There was another prolonged scream which abruptly died midway, once more preserving the silence that the house held and the man knew that whoever had been yelling was in no power to do so anymore. Death was the only sure thing in this world, after all.

Footsteps; slow, deliberate and the door knob to the parlor turned. A tall man entered. Long pale blonde locks draped over one eye past his shoulders and down his back. He was wiping his hands, stained with deep red on a white cloth. The bright red contrasted sharply with the pureness of the towel, mesmerizing the man for a moment before the tall man shifted and he looked up to meet a pair of large, cold ice blue eyes.

"Did you wait long?" his voice was deep, his Japanese perfect but his features foreign as he continued to wipe his hands and leisurely walk towards the man with long, comfortable strides. The man did not answer him. "I do not enjoy dealing with other matters when I have business on my hand but I was left without a choice this time." Silence consumed the room as the taller man observed the shorter man. "He is not dead."

"I never assumed he was," the shorter man answered. The taller one smiled. "I thought that with your track record, I could leave him to you…a gift, if you may."

"I accept it humbly."

"I like how you work. As for payment-,"

"I don't need payment."

There was a pause. "Excuse me?"

The shorter man smiled. "I said that I am not in need of payment. If you will allow me full use of the facilities, I do not require payment."

"…You are a scary man."

"Only if you want me to be."

The taller man's smile was not forced as he nodded, "Very well. No payment and full use of the… ah, facilities. You will receive further instructions in a couple of days. In the meantime, lie low after you finish your business here."

The shorter man nodded. "I have business elsewhere tonight. I don't plan to linger." And he turned to the doorway, pausing just as he was about to exit. "For a man of your caliber, your sense of style is rather tasteless."

The taller man looked amused. "Why do you say that?"

"I've never been partial to black. I like the color… _red_." The last word slid like silk from his lips, almost lovingly.

The taller man chuckled. "Black and red have long been paired together. No other combination of colors work so strong to draw out the evil that it represents. Akuma-sama himself is tied to these two colors. I will cover the light with darkness first and your job is to smear it with red afterwards." When the shorter man did not answer, the taller one continued. "Hurry with your present. I have a dinner guest at eight."

"Oh? With whom?" The shorter man asked his interest peaked. The taller one smiled.

"A woman."

The sound of the door closing behind him was the last thing the taller man heard before he retired to his rooms upstairs. He did not hear the once more persisting screams start and end two floors below nor did he hear the man leaving the house later, disappearing into the dark and cold, rainy night.

It would be two weeks before a young police guard would find the battered and bloody remains of a man thrown alongside the road beside a dead child, whose small face was still streaked with soot.

**END OF CHAPTER I: PROLOGUE**

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Next chapter will be out soon! Please leave a review for faster updates :D


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